Once my words
Were but a rainbow
A prism of colorful designs
But now I paint both grim and grey
In these dimmer darker times
What will come to be
Is on the wicked horizon
A storm of all gone mad
Into a new paradigm
Like tectonic plates shifting
Shifting Poets at their core
No more
No more police brutality
No more regime change wars
No more the one percent
****** us over and over! .
So we say
No more
As our poetry fights back.
Traveler Tim